Count Bruhl Part 51

'I am sure he does not know anything yet, but if he is here continually, spying--he could--who could foresee----'

The King, alarmed, drew himself up.

'If it is so, then I must dismiss him: yes, yes, it will be better. You shall take his place with me.'

Bruhl again kissed his lord's hand. Augustus was still sad, he sighed, his eyes filled with tears--it distressed him to part with his friend.

'Bruhl,' said he, 'it is decided; the Queen wishes it to be so, Guarini advises it, you have nothing against it; but tell me, how can it be done? How?'

The minister drooped his head and a.s.sumed an embarra.s.sed mien. The King looked at him awaiting his decision.

'Your Majesty,' said Bruhl raising his head, 'there are good reasons for disgrace, but I would not advise you to be severe with him; it will suffice to dismiss him, and not to let him see his lord's face.

Banishment from the court is the worst of punishments.'

'Yes,' the King muttered, 'but I shall leave him a small pension.'

He looked at Bruhl who nodded in the affirmative.

'Then banishment,' Augustus added, 'and I leave the execution of it to you. Do what you please, but save me any annoyance. Let him go----'

Augustus having shunted his trouble on to somebody else's shoulders, was already serene again.

'Bruhl,' he said, 'announce to the Queen that I should like to see her; the Queen either prays or paints; if she paints I can see her.'

Bruhl went out; five minutes later, the King, preceded by a chamberlain, went to his consort's apartments. He found her painting. A young artist stood respectfully behind her. The august artist was painting a head of Christ. The fact was that very little was done by her, for the artist, when the Queen was absent, corrected and improved that which was badly done; but the next day the Queen thought it was her own work and was satisfied with herself. That way the picture progressed; when it was finished it was said that it was painted by the Queen and the court admired her talent.

When the King entered, the Queen did not rise, but pointed at the work.

Augustus stood behind her and admired the picture, which having been recently improved by the artist was not at all bad. The King, having complimented the Queen, made a sign to the artist to retire for a time into the next room, which he did as quickly as he could, bowing humbly.

Augustus III bent to the Queen's ear and said:

'It shall be as you wish; we shall dismiss Sulkowski; I came to tell you this.'

The Queen turned quickly and smiled at the King.

'But not a word!' said the King. 'Bruhl will arrange the matter, I do not wish to trouble myself about it.'

'You do not need to,' said the Queen. 'Guarini and Bruhl will do everything.'

The King did not wish to prolong the subject and began to talk about the picture.

'I congratulate you on your colouring,' he said, '_tres fin_, and very fresh. Listarde could not paint a better pastel; you paint beautifully--only do not permit that artist to spoil your work and do not follow any advice.'

'He only sharpens my pencils,' said the Queen.

'Beautiful head! I shall hang it in my room if you will make me a present of it,' and he smiled.

As the dinner hour had not yet arrived, the King bowed, kissed the Queen's hand and went to his apartment; on his way he nodded to the artist to go and help the Queen with her artistic effort.

The King's face beamed with satisfaction now that he had got rid of his trouble. To-day he was altogether a different man from yesterday; his forehead was serene, there was a smile on his lips, he breathed more freely and could think of something else. He cared less for Sulkowski than for his disturbed peace and few unpleasant days. He was ready to sacrifice a man in order to get rid as soon as possible of any difficulty in his own life.

Bruhl was waiting in the King's apartment. The King, having glanced at him, laughed and said:

'The affair is finished: after dinner shooting at a target, in the evening a concert, to-morrow an opera.'

He drew near the minister and added:

'n.o.body must mention his name; all is over.'

He thought for a moment.

'Employ anybody you wish, provided I do not know anything more about the affair.'

He became thoughtful and ended with:

'Listen Bruhl, it is Ribera--'

'Yes, your Majesty, it is Ribera,' affirmed the minister.

CHAPTER XVIII

The carnival promised to be brilliant that year. In Saxony everything was satisfactory; the n.o.blemen, who dared murmur, were sent to Pleissenburg; in Poland quiet was a.s.sured by the last Sobieski.

Faustina always sang marvellously, and there was plenty of game in the forests round Hubertsburg. Day after day, arranged in advance, pa.s.sed very pleasantly.

The blessed peacefulness was disturbed by the news that Sulkowski was returning; it hastened the Queen's attack and sealed his sentence. It was not expected that the favourite would be admitted to see the King.

Henniche and his accomplices gave orders that all roads were to be watched; the guards were at the gates, private detectives watched Sulkowski's palace.

The general-minister's carriage came. His wife had intended to go towards Prague and meet him, but they were afraid of that, and the Countess Kolowrath told her that the Queen desired her to be in readiness in case she was called to the castle, and that she must not leave Dresden. The Countess was obliged to obey.

On the first of February, 1738, the Count Sulkowski arrived at Pirma, where he stopped to feed and water the horses before proceeding to Dresden. In the inn a courier sent on ahead prepared everything for the minister's reception. n.o.body yet could even suspect his downfall. The whole borough, the officials, burgomasters, in gala uniforms, were awaiting, notwithstanding the intense cold, the man whom they thought to be almighty and before whom all trembled.

The courier announced the arrival of his Excellency for four o'clock; but as that day there was a heavy fall of snow, he did not arrive at the appointed hour. While all eyes were looking down the road in the direction of Prague, a cavalier wrapped in a mantle came from the direction of Dresden and stopped his tired horse before the inn. The owner of the inn called 'The Crown,' Jonas Hender, a very resolute man, having perceived the stranger, who at any other time would have been very welcome, rushed to tell him that there was no room for him.

'Excuse me, sir--we expect his Excellency the Count Sulkowski; I have no room either for you or your horse; but at the 'Palm Branch,' an inn kept by my brother-in-law, the accommodation is not bad.'

The stranger hardly listened to Jonas. He threw the reins on the horse's neck and looked towards the inn. He was a middle-aged man, as one could judge by the wrinkles round his eyes, for the rest of his face--it must have been done on account of the cold--was wrapped in a shawl and his cap was drawn over his eyes.

'Exactly,' he muttered, 'because his Excellency is going to stay here, I must find a room, because I am sent to him.'

The innkeeper bowed and took hold of the horse.

'That alters the case,' he said, 'pray come in and warm yourself. Hot wine with spices is ready, and there is nothing better than _glukwein_ for the cold. The horse shall be taken to the stable.'